


but darling, just kiss me slow

by wafflesofdoom



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: a series of ficlets originally posted (and prompted) on tumblr.





	1. i think this is the sexiest you've ever looked

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being nineteen years old, flat broke because your uncle doesn’t pay you anything close to minimum wage for the apprenticeship you were doing with him, and having your boyfriends twenty first birthday come around right when your savings were close to gone, wasn’t really an ideal situation.

Robert did everything, for him. Robert had - he’d been the perfect boyfriend, right from the start, right from when they had shared that first panicked kiss when Aaron was sixteen.

They broken up and gotten back together a few times since then, had danced around each other for long enough, but they’d been solid, since Aaron’s eighteenth birthday, the Christmas the one that had brought them together for good.

Robert had gotten him a weekend away, down in London, for his nineteen birthday, a few months previous, and here he was, on Robert’s twenty-first birthday, on a birthday that was supposed to matter, wearing his funeral suit, a tie he’d borrowed from Paddy, and holding a picnic basket.

It was hardly a private hotel room in London, the dinners out and the cocktails and the London Eye, Robert swallowing down his completely irrational fear of heights to stick it out with him.

He was a shit boyfriend.

Swallowing his annoyance, Aaron raised a fist, knocking on the door of the farmhouse. It only took half a second for Robert to answer, his boyfriend wearing a crisp white shirt and blue trousers, looking entirely out of place in the surroundings of the farm, just like he always did.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked sexier,” Robert declared, an appreciative look on his face as he took in Aaron’s appearance, admiring his suit clad form. Aaron had taken up boxing, the year before, and he knew he’d filled out a lot, a far cry from the skinny teenager Robert had first fallen for.

“Shut up,” Aaron rolled his eyes, shifting from left to right. “Are you ready to go?”

Robert leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Aaron’s lips. “You look good in that suit,” he said, before turning to look for his blazer, a soft grey one Aaron had been with him when he’d bought.

Robert was earning money now, the kind of money both of them could have only veer dreamed of, growing up, and Aaron could only roll his eyes when he’d spend an insane amount of money on new clothes.

He was generally just happy because Robert followed up a shopping trip with a visit to Nandos, his treat.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Aaron said, the two of them falling into step beside each other as they left the house behind, heading down the country-lane that led to the Sugden family home.

“It is now,” Robert hummed. “So, whats the plan?”

“You’ll see.”

“Secretive, I like it.”

Aaron didn’t reply, hoping Robert wasn’t going to be too disappointed when he discovered what his surprise really was. He wanted to give Robert the world, he would if he could, if he had more than a fiver to his name.

“This is familiar,” Robert commented, as Aaron led him into one of the old abandoned barns around the village, a sly tone to his voice.

Of course it was familiar. It was the first place they’d ever had sex, the two of them, Aaron seventeen and his heart beating out of his chest as Robert had kissed him like he was worth something.

Aaron set his picnic basket down on one of the hay bales, turning to Robert, knowing his nerves were written all over his face.

“Whats wrong?” Robert asked, concern written all over his face as he closed the space between them, hands on Aaron’s hips. “Come on, talk to me.”

“I’m broke, but I - I wanted to make your birthday special, this year,” Aaron blurted. “But I’ve got is a picnic I begged Marlon to make, and a damp barn, and I just… I’m sorry. You did so much for my birthday, and I couldn’t even afford to buy you a real present.”

Robert was instantly holding him close, pressing a kiss to the side of Aaron’s head. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” he shook his head. “The presents don’t matter, Aaron. Being with you - that’s whats going to make my birthday special. I just wan to spend it with you.”

Aaron couldn’t shake the embarrassed flush that had rose in his cheeks as he stood, looking at Robert, wide-eyed. “Yeah?”

Robert laughed, leaning in and kissing Aaron’s embarrassment away, lips sliding against Aaron’s in a way that had become so familiar, so normal, over the years. “We’ve got so many birthdays we’re going to spend together,” he murmured, cheek pressed to Aaron’s. “As long as I get to spend them with you, I don’t care about presents, or parties, or cards. I just need you, Aaron.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. the mistletoe incident

 

 

Robert hadn’t been able to resist buying the mistletoe boxers, when he’d seen them in Primark. They were tacky, sure, but the memory of the previous Christmas he’d worn them in his insane ghosts of Christmas past style dream had been enough to have him handing over eight pounds for the jokey underwear.

He’d woken up Aaron wearing them, on Christmas morning, his husband laughing until he cried as he realised what Robert was wearing, mistletoe artfully placed over his crotch.

Robert had gotten the blowjob of his life, thanks to those ridiculous boxers, closely followed by a fairly spectacular stag before Liv had decided enough was enough and they needed to open presents  _now_.

He’d shoved the boxers to the back of a drawer, forgetting about them completely until the next Christmas. It became a bit of a running joke, over the years, for one of them to wear them Christmas morning (or over Christmas in general), the silly boxers usually resulting in some epic blowjobs, the two of them happy to take the mistletoe as literal, a particularly fond memory of the time Robert had refused to do anything but kiss the tip of Aaron’s dick, until Aaron threatened to murder him and divorce him at all once if he didn’t get a move on.

They’d been a good investment.

Until this year.

Robert wasn’t sure he’d ever been more embarrassed in his life, standing in Lisa Dingles kitchen, wearing a boat full of gravy on his trousers, Lisa holding out a spare pair of Cain’s trousers for him to borrow.

“It’s fine,” he managed to choke out, shaking his head. “It’ll dry in.”

“You’re sopping, love,” Lisa shook her head. “Come on, off with them, and I’ll throw them in the wash while we’re having dinner, they’ll be dry in no time.”

“Come on, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Chas teased with a grin, bringing back horrifying memories of the time he and Aaron had literally been caught with their trousers down behind one of the tents for the summer fete by Charity and Chas, and half the village.

Robert shot Aaron a look he hoped his husband understood, unbuckling his belt, slowing stepping out of his stained trousers.

And then he heard the first laugh, a snort from Charity’s direction as they all took in the boxers Robert was wearing.

The mistletoe boxers.

Robert’s plan had been to seduce his husband under the Christmas tree, when they’d finally packed everyone off to bed, and he’d worn the mistletoe boxers in preparation, knowing Aaron would appreciate their inside joke, the joke having gone on long enough to be a tradition now, really.

“At least we know marriage hasn’t killed your sex life,” Charity said, through hysterical laughs, Chas giggling into her glass of wine.

Robert genuinely wanted the ground to swallow him whole, as he shoved his legs into the borrowed trousers, his cheeks flaming red. “I was hardly planning on stripping,” he grumbled, swiping the glass of wine nearest to him, downing it in one,

“Oh, I think that was part of the plan for later, alright love,” Faith teased, her fourth gin and tonic in hand, and her filter completely gone, his grandmother-in-law (“future wife, if you’d like” she still constantly teased) happy to wind him up as much as humanly possible.

Slumping in his seat next to Aaron, he caught his husbands eye, Aaron looking as though he was torn between being embarrassed himself, or just joining in with the laughter.

He wasn’t the one wearing the mistletoe boxers, after all.

“I’m going to burn those mistletoe boxers,” Robert hissed, gesturing vaguely at his crotch.

Aaron snorted into his beer. “Probably a good idea.”

 

 

 

 

 


	3. that husband of yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where aaron discovers what the term dilf means, and how it very much applies to his husband.

“I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ this, Aaron,” Kerry said, a wicked grin fixed in place on her face as she spoke, sipping on her pint. “But that husband of yours is a proper DILF.”

Aaron looked over to where Robert was sitting with Victoria, Sebastian sitting in Robert’s lap. They’d only come to the pub for a quick drink, to enjoy the last of the autumn sun, so Robert hadn’t bothered with Seb’s carrier, deciding it was more fuss than it was worth.

“A what?” Aaron looked at Kerry, confused.

“A DILF, innit?” Kerry said, as if it was entirely obvious. “A dad I’d like to fuck.”

Aaron wrinkled his nose as her explanation sank in, pulling a face. “I don’t want to know what you’re thinking about my husband, honestly,” he shook his head, leaving Kerry to grin to herself as he made his way back to Robert and Victoria, taking a second to drink in Robert’s appearance.

Parenthood looked good on Robert. He’d grown into being a father in ways Aaron could only admire, more mature and grown-up than Aaron had ever known him - but still the Robert he’d fallen so desperately in love with all those years ago.

It helped it was summer. Robert was still tanned the most delicious shade of golden after their honeymoon in Spain, his hair more bleach blond than usual, the aftermath of ten days in the sun, and a homecoming to a rare Yorkshire heatwave working wonders for Robert.

He was wearing a white shirt (a baby idea, considering Sebastian was in a bit of a puke-y phase), rolled to the elbows, his Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose as he chatted with Victoria, his sister cooing at Seb every so often.

Robert looked good, Aaron - well, he hated to admit it, but he could see where Kerry was coming from really.

Crossing the last few metres between the pub door, and the picnic table they’d settled themselves on, Aaron greeted Robert with a soft smile. “Mam wouldn’t stop chewing my ear off,” he said, explaining why it had taken him more than twenty minutes to get a round in, pushing the two ciders toward his husband and sister-in-law.

There was something about summer, and sunshine, and cider, really.

“We’ve been having fun here, haven’t we?” Robert said, lifting Sebastian’s hands up, making out as though he was dancing, the little boy giving Aaron a quizzical look before he laughed, all gums and a smile that made Aaron’s heart melt into his toes.

Aaron took a drag of his cider, holding his hands out for Sebastian. “I bet you missed me though, didn’t you?” he said, Sebastian coming willingly, clearly fancying the change of scenery.

Robert didn’t move too far, absently stroking his fingers through Sebastian’s mess of blond curls, white blond and oh-so reminiscent of old baby photos of Robert. Diane said he might lose them, as he got older, but Aaron was holding out for his curly haired little angel to stay exactly as he was.

“We always do,” Robert said, leaning in to blow a raspberry to Sebastian’s cheek, delighting in how he giggled at the sensation. He didn’t much like when Aaron did it, they’d discovered - the scratch of Aaron’s beard always seemed to make him cry - but he’d constantly demand the messy, raspberry like kisses from Robert.

Aaron kept a tight hand around Sebastian’s middle, reaching for his cider. The sun was out, his gorgeous husband had a hand on his leg, and life - well, life was pretty much perfect.

                                                

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’d forgotten about Kerry’s DILF comment until late that evening, if he was being entirely honest. Robert had put Sebastian down for the evening, guaranteeing them a few hours of alone time at least, before he woke up fussy and wanting a feed and a cuddle.

Robert was making Sangria. He’d embraced all things Spanish, in the aftermath of their honeymoon, and while his attempt at paella had been a disaster best not discussed, he did made good Sangria - Aaron was a fan.

It was the perfect weather for a glass of Sangria, really, their windows thrown open and the last of the evening sun streaming in, Robert barefoot and wearing a pair of shorts that didn’t leave much to the imagination - he was model like, really, if you ignored the spot of puke on his shirt, and Aaron had gotten very good at embracing baby puke as part of his daily routine.

Mixing their drink amongst the wreckage of Sebastian’s evening bottle, and the pureed food they were starting to ween him onto, Robert was just somehow drop dead gorgeous.

Aaron grinned, remembering Kerry’s comment. Hoisting himself onto the counter next to Robert, he fixed his husband with an intent look. “Kerry said something interesting, earlier,” he said, attempting to dip his finger into the glass, Robert swatting his hand away with a roll of his eyes.

“Kerry has never said anything interesting in her life,” Robert mumbled, his response unchanging, despite the once-a-month cocktail nights he had with Bernice, Victoria, Vanessa and Kerry.

“She called you a DILF.”

“A what?” Robert looked as confused as Aaron must have done earlier, the term clearly new to him too.

“A dad I’d like to fuck,” Aaron quipped with a grin.

“She’s married!” Robert protested, a flush rising in his cheeks as he poured them both a glass, clearly finally happy with his mixture.

“She’s not wrong,” Aaron raised an eyebrow pointedly, running his eyes over every inch of Robert’s body, lingering on all his favourite parts - the broad swell of his shoulders, the smattering of freckles under his left eye, those stupidly kissable lips of his, stained with red wine and tempting in ways Aaron was happy to embrace.

“Are you calling me a DILF?” Robert snorted, setting his glass of Sangria aside, coming to stand in between Aaron’s legs, his hands warm against Aaron’s thighs. Warm, and familiar.

Aaron set his own glass down, slinging his arms around Robert’s neck as he laughed. “Yes, I am,” he grinned. “You’re quite the DILF, these days, Robert Sugden.”

Robert wrinkled his nose, laughing. “I don’t know if I’m into that, if I’m honest.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Do you need me to spell out that I’m angling to shag you on the kitchen floor, or are you going to shut up and kiss me?”

(Robert shut up rather quickly after that - and well, there wasn’t too many arguments about him being a DILF afterward, the two of them drinking Sangria in their pants, the sun setting behind their house and future brighter than it had ever been before.)

 

 

 

 

 


	4. you owe me big time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robert falling asleep mid blowjob was an unexpected downside of parenthood.

Aaron was never going to be one to complain about quickies. Really, he wasn’t - there was something incredibly sexy about your husband pinning you against the wall of the shower in the morning and getting you off before work, neither of you having more the twenty minutes to spare, but he sort of definitely missed having the kind of sex you could take your time with.

It had been a  _while_. Life had just gotten busy, which was fine, it was understandable, but Aaron was itching for a few hours wrapped up in Robert, the two of them holed up in bed and avoiding all life responsibilities.

(Two businesses, a baby, a moody Liv and Gerry getting himself in all sorts of bother didn’t make for an easy life.)

But they had that afternoon. They’d skived off work, leaving Gerry and their new scrapper Ryan to finish out the quiet Friday afternoon run, Liv still at school and Sebastian with his auntie Vic for another few hours, at least.

It was optimum sex time, really.

And yes, Aaron hated himself for saying that just a little, but he had his drop dead gorgeous husband spread out across their sheets, the two of them stripped to their underwear, Aaron settled between Robert’s legs.

They had time, and Aaron had big dreams of teasing his husband to breaking point, if he was honest. They’d done all the quick, dirty sex they needed to have, really - no, it was time for slow.

Aaron liked slow.

Pressing a kiss to Robert’s hipbone, enjoying the tiny grin Robert offered him in response, tugging Robert’s arse hugging underwear off, tossing them over his shoulder.

He liked Robert’s dick. Objectively, even if he wasn’t married to Robert, he’d think it was a nice dick.

A nice dick he was a fan of giving blowjobs too, if he was being honest. Aaron was  _good_  at blowjobs - he liked to tease Robert that it had been his blowjob skills that had kept him coming back for more, and well, Robert had never  _actually_  denied it.

Except -

Except, just as Aaron was getting into it, pulling every trick in his arsenal out, he heard a snore.

A straight up snore.

“Are you seriously asleep?” Aaron said, pulling off Robert’s dick and fixing his husband’s prone body with a glare. He wouldn’t put it past Robert to feign boredom to get what he wanted.

Another snore in response.

Aaron couldn’t help as he hovered over Robert’s unconscious body, his husband fast asleep. Sebastian had been particularly fussy the last week or so, and Robert was terrible at running on so little sleep - Aaron had always been able to survive just fine with three or four hours, but Robert was an eight hours a night or he was unbearable man.

Pulling on his discarded jeans and a jumper, Aaron grabbed one of the throw blankets they’d kicked off their bed in their haste to get into it, twenty minutes previously, tucking it around his sleeping husband.

“Rest up,” Aaron murmured, pressing a kiss to Roberts head. “But you owe me big time, buddy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not bothering to wake Robert up was worth it for the look of sheer horror on his face as he came downstairs a few hours later, wearing Aaron’s pyjamas and looking completely confused.

“Did I dream…. that?” Robert asked in a stage whisper, looking across the room to where Sebastian was lying on his play-mat, Gerry keeping an eye on him, kids TV blaring in the background (more for Gerry’s benefit than Sebastian’s, really), Aaron shoving a pasta bake into the oven.

“Dream falling asleep mid-sex on me?” Aaron grinned, enjoying the way Robert slumped into a kitchen chair, looking absolutely mortified. “I got my mouth on your dick and you started snoring.”

“I’m the worst husband ever,” Robert despaired, running a hand through his bedraggled hair. “Aaron, I’m so sorry.”

“You are the worst,” Aaron confirmed, wrapping his arms around Robert’s chest, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “But you can make it up to me tomorrow - Vic’s agreed to babysit for the day, and you’re not leaving my bed, Mr Dingle.”

“I can do that,” Robert grinned, looking slightly more relaxed.

“And I’ll wake you up with an airhorn next time,” Aaron warned, planting a messy kiss on Robert’s lips. “I was too nice to you today.”


	5. girls night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the one where aaron gets dragged out to girls night with robert and his girl gang.

Aaron wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up at girls night - and yes, regardless of his husband’s protests, it was a girls night. Once a month, Robert would go out with Vanessa, Bernice, Victoria and Kerry, and they’d get smashed off happy hour cocktails and go dancing, or they’d get food and see a show, and still end up smashed off cocktails and dancing.

Either way, it involved alcohol, dancing and a lot of Britney Spears music, if the one time they’d hosted the pre-drinks session at the Mill was anything to go by.

It sounded like Aaron’s own personal hell, if he was honest - so he wasn’t sure how exactly he’d ended up in the brand new tapas restaurant that had only just opened in Hotten, still starving despite all they’d eaten, and listening to Robert and Kerry argue about how terrible Justin Timberlake’s newest album was.

“He can do no wrong, mate,” Kerry shook her head, knocking back half a glass of sangria as she spoke. “Have you seen the arse on him? He could bang pots and pans together for an hour and I’d still buy it.”

“Buy it?” Robert rolled his eyes. “You get Amelia to illegally download everything you listen to.”

Kerry glared at him. “Alright, moneybags, some of us have to put food on the table, innit?”

Food on the table.

That sounded like Aaron’s dream, there and then, his stomach rumbling as he realised they’d pass a McDonalds on their way to Bar West. A Big Mac would go down really well, he thought to himself.

Not that Victoria would allow it. They were on a strict schedule, apparently.

“If we don’t go now, we’re going to miss happy hour,” Victoria said, scraping her chair back, grabbing her handbag off the back of the chair. “And I’m not missing out on my 2 for 1 Cosmos, thank you very much.”

“You enjoy doing this?” Aaron murmured as everyone else at the table got up to follow her from the restaurant, Robert handing him his jacket.

Robert laughed. “I do,” he reassured. “I appreciate you being here, you know.”

And that was why he was there, Aaron sighed to himself. They’d been talking, one night in bed, about friends, and about how Robert was surrounded by actual, legitimate friends now, friends he wasn’t used to having, and he’d talked about how much he’d like Aaron to hang out with his friends.

Aaron really hadn’t been able to say no. It was unusual, for Robert to open up like this, admit how lonely he had been in the times before he’d had the monthly girls night, and his coffee mornings with Vanessa, so when he did, Aaron hadn’t really wanted to shut his enthusiasm for Aaron to join down.

“I do a lot for you, don’t I?” Aaron teased, sliding his hand into Robert’s as they walked down the high street.

“You do,” Robert bumped his elbow into his. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Aaron echoed softly. He really did - otherwise he wouldn’t be going to Bar West during the infamous happy hour, when it was standard practise to have to fight to get served, the entire of the Hotten area there for their watery Cosmos’s and violently orange Sex on the Beach concoctions.

He did like Bar West, on a normal day. It was probably his favourite bar, if he was being honest - the place he’d always felt accepted, even when he hadn’t been ready to accept himself.

Aaron was glad it was a place Robert felt comfortable in, these days.

“Phew, at least we got a table,” Vanessa said, sticking her handbag under one of the stools, flashing Robert a grin. “It’s your round, Sugden.”

“Um, why?”

“Because you bailed early last month to go home to your husband,” Victoria reminded. “A Cosmo, please!”

“Sex on the beach,” Kerry said decisively, scanning the menu, Vanessa humming her agreement.

“Just a pint,” Aaron directed at his husband, barely paying attention, enjoying admiring the broad swell of Robert’s shoulders in the crisp white shirt he was wearing a little too much to recognise the horror on the girls faces.

“It’s girls night!” Victoria declared dramatically. “We only drink cocktails during happy hour, Aaron.”

Aaron wrinkled his nose. “Do I have to?”

“It’s the rules,” Robert grinned. “We get two each and try drink as many as we can in an hour.”

Aaron pulled a face, looking at the menu. He wasn’t much of a spirit drinker in general, so cocktails weren’t really his thing - he was happy with an ice cold pint, normally. “Just get me summat you think I’ll like,” he relented, shoving his jacket under the table.

Robert nodded, disappearing to the busy bar.

“So, Aaron,” Victoria rounded on him. “How is your first girls night going?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow at his sister in law before he replied. “So fun,” he said. “I could do this every night of the week.”

Vanessa smirked at his sarcasm. “Don’t tempt them,” she said. “I don’t think any of our wallets could hold up to a weekly girls night, not when Kerry and Vic are involved.”

Aaron liked Vanessa. He’d never really known much about her, but she and Charity seemed happy, and she was the kind of friend Robert needed - someone who was less likely to take his shit than he was.

Robert needed that.

Aaron looked up just as Robert was returning to their table, carrying a tray laden down with cocktails.

“I got you a whiskey sour,” Robert said, setting two glasses down in front of him. “I think you’ll like it, I’ve made it at home before.”

Aaron nodded, squinting at the array of colourful drinks on the tray, the most ridiculous looking ones going to Kerry. “What did you get?” he inquired, Robert’s glass looking suspiciously bland and boring.

“Tom Collins,” Robert admitted. “It’s like a gin and tonic. If I drink too many fruity ones, I’ll be puking on your shoes, won’t I? You remember Barcelona.”

Oh, Aaron remembered Barcelona.

They’d gone on a long weekend away, high off their honeymoon and a perfect summer, and Robert had drank so many €3 cocktails he’d vomited in a bin on their way back to their hotel, and had undergone a very unpleasant flight home the next day in the middle seat of their row.

“Well, cheers then,” Aaron said, raising his glass.

“Cheers!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron was drunk. Like, very drunk.

The kind of drunk he hadn’t been in a long time, if he was being honest about it. He’d lost track of the amount of cocktails they’d drank during happy hour, and they were on shots now, his brain pleasantly funny and his beer googles very much fixed on Robert.

He had a drop dead gorgeous husband, okay? Sue him.

They’d managed to move to a booth, in the few hours since their arrival, and Aaron was sitting wedged between Bernice and Robert, Kerry slurring something about how Bernice was too uptight, Victoria half asleep in the corner.

If there was ever a moment to drunkenly feel his husband up, this was it, Aaron decided, putting a hand on Robert’s denim clad knee, squeezing slightly. Robert’s attention was on him insanely, his eyes wide as he realised just what kind of game Aaron was about to try and play.

Smirking, Aaron let his hand travel up Robert’s thigh, squeezing the muscle there gently, enjoying the flush that rose in Robert’s cheeks in response, the first few buttons of his husband’s shirt undone, his collarbone on display and all kinds of inviting.

Aaron always wanted Robert. He always wanted the older man - he was sure he’d never know how it felt to not want him, Robert everything and anyone he wanted, all wrapped up in a very appealing tall, blond and handsome package.

He wanted him now.

Nudging Robert slightly, Aaron pressed a soft kiss to Robert’s lips, enjoying the way Robert melted into his touch. “You look good tonight,” he murmured. “I like your shirt.”

“Its one of my favourites too,” Robert admitted. “You always end up shagging me when I wear it.”

Aaron grinned. “Do I?”

Robert kissed him again. “You do,” he confirmed. “Didn’t even make it home, once - you shagged me across the bonnet of your car, halfway back from Leeds, down a creepy little lane. We’d have gotten arrested, if the police had stopped.“

“It’s definitely a good shirt then,” Aaron grinned, remembering the night in question very well. He liked this, liked that years together had only made them more adventurousness, that they’d never lost the recklessness that had defined the beginnings of their relationship.

“Can you guys just fuck already?” Kerry’s voice broke their little moment, and as Aaron turned around, he realised all eyes were on them, Victoria making gagging noises in the corner.

Aaron couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, shoving Robert out of the booth.

Robert was on the verge of hysterics as he stood, taking the jacket Aaron shoved at him. “Ladies, it’s been wonderful as always,” he grinned, shrugging on Aaron’s jacket, the arms coming up a little short on him.

“The first round is on you next time, Sugden!”

Robert shrugged. “Have you seen my husband? It’s completely worth it.”


	6. new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaron and roberts first time waking up in bed together after their reunion.

For a second, when he woke up, Robert was confused - confused as to why he wasn’t in a cramped single bed at Victoria’s, confused as to why he had someone curled around him, a head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, and then he remembered, memories of the previous night coming flooding back in an overwhelming rush.

Aaron’s lips on his. Aaron pleading with him to just home come. Aaron’s hand in his own as they walked through the village, back to the home he’d built for them, all those months ago.

Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.

It was all Aaron, it was always Aaron, and now, after so long, he had Aaron back in his arms.

It was real, it was - but it didn’t feel like it, not as Robert watched Aaron sleep peacefully, felt the tickle of his husbands breath across his bare chest, making goosebumps rise across Robert’s pale skin.

He was going to get to have this forever.

Robert hadn’t done many things right, in his life. He’d always been a disaster, had always managed to make a mess of his own life, of other peoples lives - but Aaron had seen something in him no one else had been willing to give a chance, and it had made him better.

Slowly but surely, Robert was becoming proud of the man he was becoming. A business-owner, brother, son, friend, father -  _husband_.

It was a title he’d missed.

“Mm, morning,” Aaron mumbled, slowing waking. He stayed where he was, nestled in the crook of Robert’s shoulder, for a few more minutes, giving himself the time to wake up properly before he moved, turning so he could look at Robert properly.

“I’d forgotten how good you look in the mornings,” Robert said softly, brushing Aaron’s sleep tousled hair back off his forehead, feeling as though he was drowning in the clear blue of Aaron’s eyes, wide and expressive, eyes he’d always loved waking up next to.

“I could do with a shower,” Aaron admitted, settling himself so he was propped up on Robert’s chest, the two of them nose to nose.

It felt good, to be back like this, sprawled out across their bed, Aaron halfway to straddling him, the familiar weight of his husband’s body against his own having had lulled him into the deepest sleep he’d had in a long time, the previous night.

“I don’t want to let you leave this bed,” Robert admitted, smoothing a hand down Aaron’s back, fingers tapping against the bumps and ridges of Aaron’s spine, tracing familiar patterns against Aaron’s skin.

_I love you._

**_Mine_ ** _._

_I love you._

“I don’t plan on leaving any time soon,” Aaron admitted, biting the corner of his lip, less of a nervous habit than it was the biggest case of ‘come to bed’ eyes he’d ever seen, Aaron wanton and wanting, making Robert’s heart speed up in his chest at the thought of a morning spent in bed with the gorgeous man he was lucky enough to call  ** _his_** _._

“It feels so good to wake up next to you again,” Robert admitted, thinking of all the mornings he’d woken up alone, in a tiny single bed, all the mornings he’d woken up hungover, his head banging and his heart longing for someone he’d been so sure he’d lost for good.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Aaron said. “This,” he gestured vaguely around the room. “It hasn’t felt like home without you in it.”  
  
Robert scanned the room, taking in all the things he hadn’t the previous night, too focused on Aaron to care. “You haven’t changed anything,” he noted. He’d been so sure Aaron would change the house around, in his absence - de-Robert it, if you will.

Aaron looked at him as if he was stupid. “You picked all these things out for us, why would I change any of it?”

Robert let out a low breath, letting the weight of Aaron’s words wash over him. He’d kept this, the Mill, as their home - theirs, all of theirs, not just Aaron’s and Liv’s. His home had always been there for him to come back to.

“You’re something special, you know that?” Robert said, pressing a brief, open mouthed kiss to Aaron’s lips, revelling in the knowledge he could do that now, he could kiss Aaron whenever he pleased - and well, kissing Aaron had always been one of his favourite things to do.

Aaron grinned. “How about you stop talking and show me how special I am?”

Robert didn’t need telling twice.


	7. put your dick away, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaron hadn't expected to contend with an unexpected visit from his parents, and a boyfriend who didn't want to put his dick away when he'd woken up that morning, but such is life.

Aaron liked waking up next to Robert. His boyfriend was warm, and comforting, and waking up with Robert’s arms around him was always a good way to start his day. Sunlight was streaming through his paper thin curtains, waking him up earlier than he needed to be.

Reaching across Robert’s sleeping form, Aaron grabbed his phone, pressing a kiss o Robert’s bare shoulder before he unlocked his phone, his heart dropping into his stomach as he read his newest text.

His mum was on her way.

“Robert!” Aaron sat up instantly, shoving at Robert. “Robert, wake up.”

Robert looked startled as he woke up, blinking at Aaron. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he mumbled, sounding infuriated he’d been woken up so abruptly. On a normal day, Aaron wouldn’t have blamed him, but the idea of his mum and step-dad being only minutes away, when he was stark naked with his boyfriend in bed, a boyfriend they didn’t know existed, had him less sympathetic than usual.

“My mum and Jason are on their way to visit,” he hissed, kicking back his duvet cover.  “My parents are coming over in 10 minutes, so please put some clothes on.”

“Why are you panicking so much?” Robert was moving at the slowest pace Aaron had ever seen him move, easing himself into a sitting position. “Your parents know you’re gay.”  
  
Aaron fixed him with a withering gaze. “And that means I want my mum to call around for breakfast and find you bare-arsed naked in my bed, yeah?” he threw a discarded pillow at Robert’s head, rolling his eyes.

Robert positioned himself in what Aaron assumed was supposed to be a sexy pose, a hand tucked under his head. “I think she’d be impressed,” he smirked, looking all too cocky and delighted with himself.

“Put your dick away,” Aaron said, pulling on a pair of boxers, and jeans, his heart thumping in his chest. He’d only moved out a few weeks ago, long enough for it to still be a novelty, his mum always eager to call around and force Aaron to make her lunch, or she’d call around with a new pot, or plate, or cushion for his flat.

It was supposed to be his first bachelor pad, his first proper home, and it had been mostly decorated by his mam. It was hardly what every twenty one year old wanted from their first flat, but Aaron had never been able to say no to his mum - or her interior decoration ideas.

Robert seemed to relent, easing a pair of Aaron’s boxers over his hips. Sometimes (just sometimes) Aaron couldn’t quite believe Robert was his, the older brother of his childhood best friend, the one who had always been too cool to hang out with him. Aaron wasn’t sure he’d had a proper conversation with Robert until Victoria’s eighteenth birthday, when Robert had deemed him adult enough to interact with.

Things had gone from there, really.

Aaron had met Robert in Bar West when he was close to twenty, and Robert had just moved back to Emmerdale, which had been a surprise to them both. Aaron was only just out, and Robert was testing the waters, figuring himself out, and they’d ended up doing a lot of figuring out together.

It had taken them a while to figure out how to be together, how they could work in a relationship, but they’d gotten there, in the end - just in time for Aaron to move out, and into a flat of his own, Robert half moved in before the first week was out.

“You love my dick,” Robert said, tugging on his jeans, helping himself to one of Aaron’s clean t-shirt’s. “Are you not ready for them to know about us?” he asked, looking unsure all of a sudden.

“I am,” Aaron shook his head. “I am, you know I am - but I’d rather you had clothes on when you met my parents, Robert.”

Robert inclined his head slightly. “How long have you got before they’re here?” he inquired, toeing his sneakers on.

“About ten minutes, why?”

“You’ve got no milk - or bread,” Robert said, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s cheek. “So I’m going to run to Tesco and get some breakfast bits in, while you prepare your mum for the news you’re going out with the wildest Sugden of the lot.”

Aaron grinned. “You didn’t see Victoria in her heyday,” he joked. “She was always down for necking a two litre of cider behind the back of the school on a Friday when we should have been in double maths.”

“You’re the bad influence,” Robert slapped Aaron’s arse, enjoying himself far too much, considering the formidable Chas Dingle was minutes away from finding out Robert was shagging her son.

Aaron followed Robert into the kitchen, watching as his boyfriend grabbed his wallet, and a shopping bag. “Can you get some coffee, too?” he asked, walking toward his front door with Robert.

Robert nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to Aaron’s lips, the two of them standing in the doorway of Aaron’s flat.

Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t their best idea.

“Aaron Dingle, is that Robert?” Chas practically screeched, her eyes wide as she put two and two together and very easily came up with four. “When did this happen?”

Aaron held tightly to Robert’s wrist, giving him a look. “Don’t you dare try and run,” he said. “It was your idea to tell them, so suck it up.”

“Without coffee?” Robert practically whimpered, his life-long fear of Chas bubbling to the surface, all his cockiness gone.

Aaron grinned wickedly. “Without coffee.”


	8. matching outfits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaron and robert discover the issue with dressing their identical twins in matching outfits.

“I think Leah is going to start crawling soon, you know,” Robert commented from his position on the floor, watching one of their daughters stretch out on the play-mat, looking as though she was itching to start moving. She’d stared rolling already - hence the cushions blocking off every remotely sharp surface, and Robert’s watchful eye - and Robert wouldn’t be surprised if she got going soon.

“That’s Abigail.”

Robert raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder to where Aaron was making the girls bottles, Abigail strapped to his chest, the little girl wriggling delightedly in the carrier. “You’ve got Abigail,” he shook his head. “This is Leah.”

“No, I’ve got Leah,” Aaron said, picking his way over a mess of discarded toys to join Robert on the sitting room floor, two bottles in hand. “Leah has curlier hair than Abigail does.”

Robert helped Aaron unstrap whichever baby he had from the carrier, his husband breathing a sigh of relief as he tossed the carrier aside, his shoulders clearly aching. The girls were getting so much bigger now, and it was getting harder to be able to carry them around like they had done when they’d both been tiny babies.

“This is definitely Leah,” Robert shook his head, scooping Leah up off the floor. She fixed him with a grumpy look almost instantly, her dark curly hair wild as always, her eyes expressive and wide, Leah clearly taking a minute to decide if she was going to scream the house down, or go with Robert picking her up.

This, Robert was good at stopping. He blew a raspberry against her belly, making Leah gurgle delightedly, settling in his arms. Bending his knees, Robert laid Leah back against his legs, squinting at the little girl.

Aaron echoed his actions, the two of them looking at the girls intently. “This is definitely Leah, Robert,” he said, brushing a finger against the tiny birthmark on her cheek. “See? Leah’s the one who has the birthmark.”

“Are you sure?”

Aaron snorted. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes! At least when they’re dressed differently, we can tell the difference between them.”

Robert looked between their two girls, grinning at their matching flower print baby grows, the patterns as identical as the two girls were. “They look so cute though,” he protested. “You saw how cute they looked in that photo I sent your mum this morning.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “I know they look cute,” he said, pulling a face at Abigail - or was it Leah? - making her gurgle happily. “But I’d like to be able to tell the difference between our daughters, Robert. You’ve bought them enough clothes that we can easily have them not match.”

Robert pouted. “I like when they match,” he admitted, gently clapping whichever baby he had hands together, humming under his breath. Having identical twins had been an adventure from the start, in every sense of the word, so sue him for liking to dress them up matching and bombard his Facebook friends with photos of his tiny matching little girls.

“I know,” Aaron’s face softened. “But we need to be able to tell them apart, Robert - it’ll be easier when they’re older, but for now, dressing them differently really helps.”

Robert sighed, knowing Aaron was right. They were quiet for a few minutes, giving the girls their afternoon bottles, when realisation suddenly dawned on Robert.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah?” Aaron looked over at him, drop dead gorgeous as always, even when he was wearing a t-shirt covered in spit up, and pyjama bottoms. Dad life had always suited Aaron, and even on days when the girls were being fussy as anything, he seemed to take it all in his stride, Leah (or was it Abigail?) nestled easily in the crook of his arm, chugging her bottle down.

(It must be Leah. Leah had been the hungrier baby practically from day one.)

“Do you think we mixed them up when they were smaller, when it was even harder to tell them apart?” Robert asked, concerned by his own realisation. “Like - did we wake up one day and mix them up? Is Abigail really actually Leah?”

Aaron looked down at the baby in his arms, brow furrowed. “I mean… Does it really matter if we accidentally swapped them around? They’re babies.”

“Aaron!”

Aaron laughed, giving Leah an apologetic look when he accidentally knocked her bottle away from her mouth. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure this baby has always been Leah,” he shook his head. “So you’ve got Abigail.”

“We should label them,” Robert said, hoisting Abigail over his shoulder as she finished her bottle, gently burping them. “We’d never get them mixed up then.”

“My mums offer of getting them name necklaces still stands,” Aaron said cheekily, knowing full well how Robert felt about the idea.

“No daughter of mine is going to wear a name necklace.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Three weeks later, when they get the girls mixed up again, Robert relents and agrees to baby bracelets.)

(But only because he’s concerned they really have mixed the girls up in their confusion.)

 

 


End file.
